The exercise:
Write four lines of prose which take place in a: pool hall.
The last day of February. That went quick.
Operation: Get Max a Haircut was a partial success today. He was fine right up until the first snip, at which point he started crying. The barber said something along the lines of 'Now that we've started we can't stop' and I told him to do the best he could.
So his hair is out of his eyes, at least we managed that much. I might have to give him a little trim around the ears, but the main concern has been taken care of. Even if it's not particularly even (what with all the fidgeting and fussing), I'm sure it's a whole lot better that what I would have done.
Mine:
Pool cue held loosely in one hand, a half empty beer bottle gripped tightly in the other, he watched his opponent's movements closely. Something underhanded was happening here, he was sure of it. He just had to figure out how, exactly, she was cheating and then he could finally call her on it.
With a long, smooth stroke she sank her shot before flashing him a quick smile; suddenly he had forgotten, yet again, what he had been thinking about.
Thursday February 27th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about an: intrusion.
I tried to take Max to get his haircut this afternoon but I guess it was a bit too late in the day for him, as he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I wasn't interested in forcing the issue, for his and the barber's sake, so we'll try again tomorrow.
If it happens again we'll just have to cut it ourselves while he's sleeping. Should we get to that point, I take no responsibility for how goofy he'll look.
Mine:
An abandoned beach, the sun warming the sand with its rays as it slips toward the horizon. Waves roll gently onto the shore before whispering their unhurried retreat. A bottle of wine in one hand, a wicker picnic basket in the other, heavy with the promise of a long, leisurely dinner.
That report is due on Monday. If they don't like the results heads are going to roll.
Log cabin, a roaring fire in the hearth. Through the windows snow can be seen drifting down to earth between the pines. Nearby an owl calls out. Thick blankets, hot chocolate, bookshelves crowded with the finest works of literature produced in the last five hundred years.
Dad is in the hospital again. The doctors don't sound optimistic.
Perfect silence. A view that reaches for eternity in all directions. Breathe in peace, breathe out stress. Feel at one with the earth beneath my feet. Ponder the vastness of the universe, the meaning of life and death.
Beeping, beeping, beeping. Louder, louder, louder. Groggy fingers fumble for the alarm clock.
I wish reality would stop intruding on my dreams.
Write about an: intrusion.
I tried to take Max to get his haircut this afternoon but I guess it was a bit too late in the day for him, as he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. I wasn't interested in forcing the issue, for his and the barber's sake, so we'll try again tomorrow.
If it happens again we'll just have to cut it ourselves while he's sleeping. Should we get to that point, I take no responsibility for how goofy he'll look.
Mine:
An abandoned beach, the sun warming the sand with its rays as it slips toward the horizon. Waves roll gently onto the shore before whispering their unhurried retreat. A bottle of wine in one hand, a wicker picnic basket in the other, heavy with the promise of a long, leisurely dinner.
That report is due on Monday. If they don't like the results heads are going to roll.
Log cabin, a roaring fire in the hearth. Through the windows snow can be seen drifting down to earth between the pines. Nearby an owl calls out. Thick blankets, hot chocolate, bookshelves crowded with the finest works of literature produced in the last five hundred years.
Dad is in the hospital again. The doctors don't sound optimistic.
Perfect silence. A view that reaches for eternity in all directions. Breathe in peace, breathe out stress. Feel at one with the earth beneath my feet. Ponder the vastness of the universe, the meaning of life and death.
Beeping, beeping, beeping. Louder, louder, louder. Groggy fingers fumble for the alarm clock.
I wish reality would stop intruding on my dreams.
Wednesday February 26th, 2014
The exercise:
Write something that has to do with: rising above.
Got to bed relatively early last night. Max woke up extra early this morning. There is no winning.
Mine:
The spectators in the stadium were so absorbed in the action on the playing field that not a single person in the stands noticed when the massive black blimp first appeared overhead. Not that its arrival would have garnered much concern - such airships were a common sight at major sporting events such as that one.
It floated menacingly while the game continued to unfold far below, the captain steering the ship in slow circles. Eventually it was spotted by a man in the midst of rolling his eyes at an official's missed call. He pointed it out to his friends, who directed those around them to look up. Not long after that every eye in the stands was turned its way.
And still it circled above them.
During a timeout on the field players and coaches realized that the spectators were no longer... well, spectating. Then they too were standing with their heads tilted back, just as puzzled as everyone else.
Satisfied that they had everyone's attention at last, the crew aboard the blimp began to drop their bombs.
Write something that has to do with: rising above.
Got to bed relatively early last night. Max woke up extra early this morning. There is no winning.
Mine:
The spectators in the stadium were so absorbed in the action on the playing field that not a single person in the stands noticed when the massive black blimp first appeared overhead. Not that its arrival would have garnered much concern - such airships were a common sight at major sporting events such as that one.
It floated menacingly while the game continued to unfold far below, the captain steering the ship in slow circles. Eventually it was spotted by a man in the midst of rolling his eyes at an official's missed call. He pointed it out to his friends, who directed those around them to look up. Not long after that every eye in the stands was turned its way.
And still it circled above them.
During a timeout on the field players and coaches realized that the spectators were no longer... well, spectating. Then they too were standing with their heads tilted back, just as puzzled as everyone else.
Satisfied that they had everyone's attention at last, the crew aboard the blimp began to drop their bombs.
Tuesday February 25th, 2014
The exercise:
Give me two options, in haiku form, for words that could be engraved on a: tombstone.
Yours, someone famous, someone fictional, whatever. Serious or silly, I leave that up to you.
Brought a wheelbarrow full of wood down to the house today, which was fine. The problem, however, is that I had planned on bringing much more than that. It's just that, apparently, I am not yet sufficiently recovered from my cold to deal with slogging through a snow-covered orchard.
Seriously, weather. We could do with a little less of the white stuff any day now.
Mine:
He loved his dear wife
almost as much as he loved
his six mistresses
* * *
She made music with
each and ev'ry breath she took;
listen, she sings still
Give me two options, in haiku form, for words that could be engraved on a: tombstone.
Yours, someone famous, someone fictional, whatever. Serious or silly, I leave that up to you.
Brought a wheelbarrow full of wood down to the house today, which was fine. The problem, however, is that I had planned on bringing much more than that. It's just that, apparently, I am not yet sufficiently recovered from my cold to deal with slogging through a snow-covered orchard.
Seriously, weather. We could do with a little less of the white stuff any day now.
Mine:
He loved his dear wife
almost as much as he loved
his six mistresses
* * *
She made music with
each and ev'ry breath she took;
listen, she sings still
Monday February 24th, 2014
The exercise:
The list prompt is making a return visit, so use each of the following words in your poetry or prose today: strike, bare, slope, broken.
We've had quite a dumping of snow the last couple of days. That's enough for this year, I think. Let's get to the whole spring arriving thing, thanks.
Mine:
Sky touches earth with a lightning finger,
A sudden strike that does not linger;
Staying only to light a wooded slope
As wild creatures flee in search of hope.
The raging fire marches to the lake,
Leaving bare, blackened earth in its wake.
Here, where wonder was already meager,
A broken land made somehow bleaker.
The list prompt is making a return visit, so use each of the following words in your poetry or prose today: strike, bare, slope, broken.
We've had quite a dumping of snow the last couple of days. That's enough for this year, I think. Let's get to the whole spring arriving thing, thanks.
Mine:
Sky touches earth with a lightning finger,
A sudden strike that does not linger;
Staying only to light a wooded slope
As wild creatures flee in search of hope.
The raging fire marches to the lake,
Leaving bare, blackened earth in its wake.
Here, where wonder was already meager,
A broken land made somehow bleaker.
Sunday February 23rd, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: the siren.
Max woke me up just in time to catch the final five minutes of the hockey game this morning. Thankfully the only tense moments involved waiting for the online stream to load, as Canada was up 3-0 and they were rarely challenged during the small portion of the game we watched.
That was a pretty dominant defensive performance, giving up only three goals over six games and finishing things off with back to back shutouts. Not nearly as dramatic as their gold medal game in Vancouver, but at that time of the morning I will not complain about that.
Mine:
The siren which sits atop the towering pole in the main square is silent now. Only echoes linger, but they too will be gone soon. A chilling wind blows from the north, bringing with it hints of the winter that is drawing steadily closer.
It is almost enough to clear the stench away from this town.
I walk the streets, utterly alone. Even the strays that once pestered passersby are gone. If I had more sense I would join them - those that are still alive, that is. Though keeping company with those that were taken in the first attack may be a better choice than to be here, breathing this air.
Those savages will return, of that I am certain. Still I roam through my town, searching. The ticking clock in the back of my head is growing louder and more menacing, but I cannot leave yet. If there is a heartbeat more to spent here then I must spend it.
Though my chances of success fade with every step I take, I cannot leave without finding her first.
Write about: the siren.
Max woke me up just in time to catch the final five minutes of the hockey game this morning. Thankfully the only tense moments involved waiting for the online stream to load, as Canada was up 3-0 and they were rarely challenged during the small portion of the game we watched.
That was a pretty dominant defensive performance, giving up only three goals over six games and finishing things off with back to back shutouts. Not nearly as dramatic as their gold medal game in Vancouver, but at that time of the morning I will not complain about that.
Mine:
The siren which sits atop the towering pole in the main square is silent now. Only echoes linger, but they too will be gone soon. A chilling wind blows from the north, bringing with it hints of the winter that is drawing steadily closer.
It is almost enough to clear the stench away from this town.
I walk the streets, utterly alone. Even the strays that once pestered passersby are gone. If I had more sense I would join them - those that are still alive, that is. Though keeping company with those that were taken in the first attack may be a better choice than to be here, breathing this air.
Those savages will return, of that I am certain. Still I roam through my town, searching. The ticking clock in the back of my head is growing louder and more menacing, but I cannot leave yet. If there is a heartbeat more to spent here then I must spend it.
Though my chances of success fade with every step I take, I cannot leave without finding her first.
Saturday February 22nd, 2014
The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: a threat.
Today I survived my first full shift in two weeks, though there may have been a ten minute nap in the bowling alley included in there somewhere. Hard to say.
Either way, I am very tired. My bed is calling, and I don't think it's going to be very interested in allowing me to get up to watch any part of the hockey game tomorrow morning. So I shall just have to hope for good news whenever I do wake up.
Mine:
You don't want me
To do this thing.
So please behave,
Don't make me sing.
Write a four line poem about: a threat.
Today I survived my first full shift in two weeks, though there may have been a ten minute nap in the bowling alley included in there somewhere. Hard to say.
Either way, I am very tired. My bed is calling, and I don't think it's going to be very interested in allowing me to get up to watch any part of the hockey game tomorrow morning. So I shall just have to hope for good news whenever I do wake up.
Mine:
You don't want me
To do this thing.
So please behave,
Don't make me sing.
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